


An Oath For All Our Days

by WanderingTheRailroads



Series: across time and space, my love will find you [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst and Tragedy, Character Death, Childhood Friends, Death, Drama, F/M, Gen, Love Triangles, M/M, Romance, Royalty, Story within a Story, hail king tsukki, storyteller - Freeform, tsukkiyachi, yachi is an actual princess, yamatsukki, yamayachi - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2019-10-16 13:54:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17550938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WanderingTheRailroads/pseuds/WanderingTheRailroads
Summary: Once upon a time, there were two kingdoms. In those kingdoms, three children lived and played, in a land between the mountains and sea...





	1. The Wandering Storyteller

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the YachiYamaTsukki fic I was working on, it's in the process of conversion to a chapter format (and I'm also adding more stuff). Beware, it has some pretty sad moments.
> 
> Enjoy :)

The inn crowd is raucous as men down their drinks and children scurry to and fro with mothers trying to corral them.

By the fireplace, a few of these children are gathered round a tall man seated by a rickety table. The man's voice is soothing and his smile never seems to fade, even as he tells endless tales of distant lands. Outside an icy wind howls, but they are safe and warm within, enraptured by the traveler's stories.

They've heard the tale of the Sky Snake's Temple, and of fantastic lands beyond the sea where fruits grow large as elephants, and of the hidden cursed treasure beneath a mountain, and their eyes are beginning to grow drowsy.

“…and so the boy returned home, hailed by all as a hero. He married the princess, and they lived happily ever after.”

 

But one boy seated near the fireplace isn't satisfied, greedily raising his hand to demand more.

“Kind sir, kind sir! Tell us another story, if you please?”

 

The storyteller turns to face the child and beckons him forward, his broad lap and warm smile an open invitation. As the child toddles over and sits down, he cranes his head up to peer at the storyteller, bright eyes eagerly awaiting a response.

“Of course, boy. What would you like to hear about?” asks the Storyteller, as he ruffles the boy's hair. The child, seizing his opportunity, raises his voice loud enough to startle some of the other inn patrons who're now curiously gazing at the odd duo of Storyteller and precocious boy.

 

“Oh, I know! Tell me the story of this!” chirps the boy, tugging on the Storyteller's fancy-looking cloak embroidered with ornate flower patterns and crescents.

 

The Storyteller sighs wistfully, running a hand through his greenish forest-coloured hair, streaks of grey marking the passage of years. He pulls the cloak closer around his body and the boy's small form, the scent of grass and spring flowers enveloping them, and begins the story:

 

_Once upon a time, in a land bordering the mountains and the sea, there were two kingdoms, and in those kingdoms lived three children..._


	2. A Childhood Oath

_Once upon a time, in a land bordering the mountains and the sea, there were two kingdoms._

 

The Kingdom of Flowers, so named for its beautiful gardens flanking the royal palace, the seemingly crystalline flowers sparkling in the sun, and the Kingdom of Moonlight, standing proud in the shadow of the mountain, ever lit by night with a pale glow.

 

In the land shared by these kingdoms lived three children: a Princess, a Prince, and a Squire.

 

The Princess was born amidst her palace gardens, her hair the colour of a sunny day. She lived in the palace with her mother the Queen, the King having passed away in her early years. The Princess of Flowers was a child often lost in her own thoughts, tripping and stumbling over words unspoken.

 

The Prince was a child of the moon, pale-haired and lanky, with a piercing gaze that matched his sharp tongue. As their palace stood in the shadow of the mountain, so did he remain in the shadow of his older brother, a young man superior in every way whether in body or mind. The Moon Prince cared little for rivalry though, instead idolizing his brother.

 

The Squire, like his father and grandfather and grandfather's father before him, came from a line of mountain folk in service to the Moon King. He was tall (though not as tall as the Prince) and sturdy, his hair always like an overgrown bush in need of trimming. Unlike the other hardy and reliable men of his clan though, the Squire found himself prone to doubt, and a gnawing fear that he would be found unworthy.

 

These three children were the closest of friends, having been together from the moment they could open their eyes. The Flower Queen, concerned as she was, often spoke fondly of her daughter's  escapades, where the princess would go missing during royal visits only to be found curled up in the hollow of a tree or by the riverbanks, with the Moon Prince and Mountain Squire by her side like loyal knights.

 

\---

The Storyteller pauses for a moment, taking a swig of the drink set before him. At this point, a plump girl seated close to the the fireplace takes the chance to raise her voice in protest.

 

“This has nothing to do with the cloak.” she booms, folding her arms indignantly. The other children stare at her annoyed, but the Storyteller simply smiles, as though saying “Patience, I'll get there.”

He reaches into the pouch around his waist, pulling out a juicy-looking apple which he offers to the girl. Her eyes widen as the apple glistens, and she lunges forward and grabs it greedily without a word of thanks, the juices spilling down her chin as she chews.

In her distraction, she doesn't realize the story has already resumed, and is unable to protest further with a mouth full of apple-flesh.

\---

But for all her childhood adventures, the Princess had not ventured beyond the boundaries of either kingdom. And so it came to pass one fine day in her tenth summer, that she would find herself plunging through the depths of the woods, trailing behind her companions.

 

The Moon King's royal entourage had arrived in her kingdom earlier that morning, and were even now engaged in a heated discussion over the latest maneuvers of foreign empires, something she could never wrap her head around. They were so intensely focused on the matters at hand that three missing children raised no alarm, not even from the guards.

 

Through the woods they ran, down twisting paths and mossy trails, led by the Moon Prince. It was in rare moments like these that they could witness him smile and laugh warmly, the coldness of his gaze melting beneath the sunlight.

 

So enraptured were they by the sights and sounds that she failed to notice a thorny branch protruding from the undergrowth, running right into it.

 

“Ow!” cried the Princess as she stood frozen to the spot, a throbbing pain emanating from where a broken-off thorn had pierced her right foot.

Immediately, the Prince and Squire were by her side. The Squire knelt before her, for it would not do to have a Princess kneeling to a commoner, and reached for the pouch around his waist, out of which came a poultice and bandages. Setting them on a nearby rock, he raised her foot, holding it gently in the palm of his callused hand as he examined the wound. Nothing severe, fortunately, just a slight gash.

 

But even minor wounds can hurt like hellfire to a child.

 

As he pulled the thorn out, the Princess screamed in pain and began to sob. She only calmed down once the Prince offered her his sleeve to cry on -he cared not for his royal honor, there was nobody else there to witness the scene anyway- and a drink of water from his leather flask.

 

And so after she had calmed down and her foot had been securely bandaged, the journey continued, only this time with her riding on the Squire's back with her arms around his chest. He thought little of it, for they were but children still.

 

Eventually, they came to a clearing in the woods lit by the noonday sun. In the clearing, beyond which loomed a sky full of clouds, stood a single apple tree. Its leaves were green, and lush apples hung from its branches.

The Prince was the first one to clamber up, his lanky limbs making quick work of the climb. The next was the Princess, reaching up hesitantly from the squire's shoulders to grasp the prince's extended hand.When it came to the squire's turn, though, he merely shook his head.

\---

 

“Why?” asks the child on the storyteller's lap, grasping the hem of his ornate cloak.

 

“The branch would have broken with three people on it, and they would all fall down like Fat King George!” retorts the Storyteller with a hoarse chuckle, causing all the children to roar with laughter. Everyone knows the story of King George, a ruler mocked for being so heavy that he somehow broke a solid iron bench by sitting on it.

 

“Instead the squire chose to...” continues the storyteller.

 

\---

 

_Instead the Squire chose to sit with his back to the tree's trunk, beneath the tree branch where his companions perched._

 

The Squire pulled a clump of flowers from near his feet, tossing the petals up at the Prince and Princess in mock celebration.

“Hail the new King and Queen!” he shouted. The Princess blushed light pink, and the Prince just glared at his retainer and friend.

“That's treason, you know. Brother is the rightful king” admonished the Prince.

Everyone favoured his brother over him anyway...not that he minded much. Being a king was no easy task, as his father often lamented. Still, he played along.

 

“But if you insist, we shall mount a rebellion. With my new Queen, we shall establish a great kingdom!” As he spoke pompously, the princess fidgeted, struggling to find her words.

 

“I don't think...I don't think I'd make a good queen.” she squeaked, wringing her hands together.

“But you have to be, eventually. You have no brothers or sisters, so it has to be you. I think you'll do fine.” the Prince said, patting her on the back.

“Um...I guess so.”

At that moment, the clouds parted, silencing their playful dialogue.

 

Below the cliffs, roads and houses stretched out to the horizon, winding across farmland and hills. The two palaces stood in stark contrast at each end of the tapestry, like the Sun and Moon. Far away near the horizon, they could see the great Silver Lighthouse and the docks beside it, its fires unlit awaiting nightfall. Like ants, people scurried to and fro across the land, drinking, eating, working, and going about the business of life.

 

For a long while the trio remained speechless, taking in the view before them, even as the sky turned a bright shade of orange. It was then that the Prince spoke.

 

"Let us make an oath."

"An oath?" the Princess asked, tilting her head in confusion. "What's that?"

"It's like a promise, except more serious. Like how Her Majesty the Queen often promises to bring you honey from the Southern Islands." the Squire explained, his gaze still fixed on the sea and horizon beyond.

"Um...what sort of promise do you want to make?" asked the Princess again, her curiosity still unsated.

"How about, 'let us be together forever'?"

" But what can we swear on, Your Majesty? The knights have swords and shields, but there are none here..." spoke the Squire, wondering what his liege would do.

The Prince scrunched his face in concentration, finally alighting on a spark. Hopping down from the tree's branch and hauling the Princess down in turn, he turned back to peer up at the tree and smacked his hand lightly against the trunk.

"We'll swear on this tree."

 

And so it was that they stood under the apple tree by the dying light, hands folded together in mock solemnity as the children promised to never part, through the passing of the years.

_They knew yet little of responsibilities, and the chains men place upon each other called 'duty', but that would change, in time._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The oaths of our childhood are a beautiful thing, but sorely tested as the seasons pass.


	3. The Looming Storm

‘Responsibility’ was something for grown-ups, for the kings and queens and nobles, and the Moon Prince knew of its heavy burden only vaguely.

 

“Brother?” called out the Moon Prince to the Elder Prince in the dark of their bed-chamber one night.

“What is it, Little Moon?” came the Elder Prince’s deep voice from across the room, addressing his brother by a nickname few dared use. The Moon Prince didn’t particularly mind though.

“What is it like to bear the weight of duty?”

The Elder Prince lighted a candle, illuminating both their faces in the gloom.

“Where’d you hear that phrase from?” he asked, concerned.

“The Minister of Gates mentioned it during a meeting with Father.”

“I see.” The Elder Prince walked over to where his brother lay on the bed and bent down to ruffle his hair. “Well, you’ve carried the Flower Princess on your back before, right?”

“Uh…yes? What does that have to do with anything?”

“It feels something like that, only heavier, and slightly less pleasant, and I have to do it all the time.”

“Oh. Will I ever be strong enough to bear it?” the Moon Prince asked meekly.

“You will, someday.” His brother replied, snuffing out the candle. “Now go to sleep, Little Moon. Father will not be happy if you wake after dawn. That too, is part of duty.”

“Good night”, the Moon Prince called out, tucking the bed sheets over himself tightly. _Perhaps someday…_

After their oath beneath the tree, time flew swift like the hawk at dusk. The seasons passed them by, lost amidst the whirlwind of training, and visiting dignitaries, and palace lessons, and even more misadventures.

They still sat together by the rivers and ran across fields of grass, but soon there was an almost-invisible distance between them, manifesting itself in the swift drawing back of hands that accidentally touched and cheeks that burned red when they gazed at each other.

The Squire and Prince began to grow tall, their arms rough branches knotted together and chests spreading broad like a tree’s trunk. The Princess, on the other hand, was becoming something else altogether: a flower in the desert, the soft curves of her body and demure expression stirring something up within the two boys.

The Squire, especially, understood everything had changed: like a ball of knitting wool suddenly and hopelessly entangled.

The Princess was a warm summer sun lighting his heart ablaze; the Prince was the cold moonlight, sending shivers down his spine.  

He longed to hold them close, to feel their warmth on his skin and the shape of their bodies, like exploring an uncharted land...

\----

No more than that shall be said, for his inner thoughts were of things unsuitable for the children in the audience.

\----

But all the follies of youth were put aside and forgotten for a time, in the face of something worse.

 

In the autumn of the Moon Prince's thirteenth year, his brother was to go off to war. They had not sought it, but it came to them unasked for.

 

Beyond the mountains a great host was encamped, a horde of rough men from across the sea. They had not moved openly against the two kingdoms, but reports had come in of travelers being harassed and even molested or murdered.

The two kingdoms, for all their splendour, had not the strongest or largest armies, so they refrained from interfering for a time, but the situation eventually grew too dire and a council was called.

 

The Moon Prince was there.

 

He recalled little of what was said, but what he did recall was his father growing uncharacteristically angry in a heated argument with the Elder Prince, while the Queen merely kept silent. At last, having reached an impasse, they both turned to the Moon Prince.

 

“What say you, my Little Moon? Since we both cannot agree on a course of action, let us hear your counsel. Should he lead the troops forth?”

 

The Moon Prince thought little of it at the time, but his answer was the spark that lit the powderkeg ablaze.

 

“Yes.”

\---

 

“And I told them all that my brother is a fierce warrior!” the Moon Prince regaled while leaning against the door, to an awestruck Squire.

 

The Squire and Moon Prince were lingering outside the hall, for the King had ordered everyone except his advisors, the Flower Queen, and Elder Prince to leave as the council deliberated their next move.

 

“He truly is-” the Moon Prince continued, but his words died in his throat as he fell backwards from a suddenly opened door, caught in time by a pair of muscular arms. Behind him, his brother stood tall, like a mountain dressed in royal garments of gold and purple, wearing a head of dark brown hair.

“Sorry, brother” apologized the Elder Prince sheepishly, placing the Moon Prince back on his feet. “I didn't know you were there.”

“Oh, and hello, Squire”, called out the Elder Prince, the Squire bowing in response. “So, what were you talking about?”

“I was just saying how great you are!”, the Moon Prince exclaimed, causing his brother to chuckle.

“Hah! Oh come on, Little Moon. I'm not all THAT amazing. I'm just... "

"...just doing your duty, right?" The Moon Prince finished his brother's sentence. 

"You still remember that?"

"Of course!", he boasted.

"Good. Father doesn't see it that way, though. He's too averse to risks" the Elder Prince complained.

 

At that moment, the door at the corridor's end creaked open, and a man clad in armor stood there. His long, golden hair tied with a band and fierce demeanor reminded the Squire of a lion.

 

"Hey prince, preparations are complete", the Lion shouted, waving at them.

"Do not be so insolent towards-" started the Moon Prince angrily, but his brother merely waved a hand dismissively. "It's alright, Little Moon, this is one of my closest friends. And our company's tactician."

 

The Lion grinned cockily and beckoned his friend forward. Turning on his heel, the Elder Prince began striding down the corridor, still speaking as he moved towards where his lion-like friend stood

 

“My apologies, I must leave now. There are more duties to tend to before we depart."

 “Leaving so soon? ” asked the Moon Prince, chasing his brother. The Squire began to move as well, but the Elder Prince held him back with a broad hand and a grim smile.

"No, this is not your battle.  I don't want to risk any more lives than necessary."

 

A dejected look came over the Squire's face, but he acceded and stood still, watching them. As the pair reached the door, the Moon Prince stopped.

 

"Be well, brother", he said, clasping his brother's hands.

“Good evening. And thank you, Little Moon. I'll be back soon", reassured the Elder Prince, breaking away and disappearing beyond the doorway along with the Lion.

\---

"Sir, are you okay?" comes the voice of the little boy seated on the Storyteller's lap.

"I'm fine. Thank you, child."

He ruffles the boy's hair, sighing.  
\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so he went off to war, bearing the heavy burden of duty on his back.
> 
> (Sorry, slight OOCness in this chapter)


	4. Night

“That’s a riveting tale. What happened next, friend?” asks a burly man as he joins in the circle of children, lowering himself onto an empty chair and looking incredibly out of place. The Storyteller smiles at his new audience member and continues the tale.

_It would take two days travel through the winding mountain pass, from the Moonlit Palace to where those invaders had set up camp…_

\---

For the next few days, the palace was abuzz with commotion, servants rushing back and forth. The prince would return soon, for word had arrived that he was on the verge of victory!

The King had supreme confidence in his son’s military prowess, of course; after all, he was to become king himself eventually.

 

On the first day, the Flower Queen’s retinue arrived, four armored men marching ahead of the carriage which contained the Queen and her Princess.

Their armor was plain and gray, decorated only with a single symbol on the right breast: a sunflower. Behind them rode two horses pulling the barely-adorned carriage itself. The Squire caught only a glimpse of them, for they were attended to and hurried away almost immediately.

On the second day, a contingent of dignitaries arrived from the Eastern Islands. They were stocky and rough-looking, smelling faintly of spices and saltwater. Leading the rabble was a fierce woman wearing a sleeveless dress, her hair cropped short.

The third day saw the palace erupt in merrymaking and the welcoming of guests in the grand hall.  The Squire stood watch outside with his fellow guards and soldiers, not wanting to draw unwanted attention and gossip.

On the fourth day, the Squire was seated on his rough cot in the palace barracks, polishing his armor, when the Prince burst in wearing his royal garments lined with furs.

\--

 "Hey!" shouted the Squire, as he found himself being dragged down the torch-lit hallway by his taller friend, a look of determination etched on the Prince's face.

"Stop whining. Do you want to sit in there and feel sorry for yourself forever?"

"No, I just..." the Squire gasped, stopping to catch his breath. "...it's for your sake. And I'm not even dressed well."

"You're just a Squire, no one will complain. And what do you mean, 'my sake'?" asked the Prince, turning to face his friend.

"The nobles have been gossiping."

"I know."

"And?"

The Prince shrugged, rolling his eyes and grimacing. "I don't care. Let them say what they want."

"But...they'll badmouth you!" the Squire protested, gripping the Prince's shoulders with both hands. "I'm not even a noble, just a boy from a village."

"I don't care."

"But-"

"Don't make me drag you all the way, it's embarrassing."

In frustration, the Squire threw his hands up in the air and made a sour face as he fell into step with the Prince.

"Fine."

They reached the thick wooden doors separating the military wing from the main castle, and the Squire pulled one side open, strains of chatter and music burst forth. Rounding a corner, the Great Hall came into view, as did the Princess, a point of light in the crowded room full of fancily dressed guests.

 

_She stands there in the clearing, and he is in the shade of the trees, unable to move forward towards her sunlight. The Princess beckons, smiling, but his feet refuse to obey._

 

"Huh?"

The Squire rubbed his eyes, confused.  _What was that?_

"What's wrong?"

"N-nothing. I'm fine, just...overwhelmed by the crowd." replied the Squire meekly.

"Ah. Then let's go greet the Princess."

\--

"Was the Princess beautiful?" interrupts a little girl at the far end of the room. The Storyteller nods.

"Oh yes, she was. Like a flower beginning to bloom" he exclaims, gesturing in the air. "The Princess wore green with accents of gold, her dress long and flowing..."

\--

Sun-colored hair fell to her shoulders, braided and adorned with a silver flower from the Flower Kingdom's gardens. She was leaning against a pillar, conversing awkwardly with a rather haughty-looking noblewoman in fine blue robes.

"Excuse me." called out the Prince as they approached her. The Princess turned at the sound of their voice, waving to them.

"Oh, your Highness! It is an honor", wheedled the noblewoman, bowing low.

"Hello. I hope you're enjoying the party." the Prince replied, staring and trying to hide his disdain.

"I certainly am, Your Highness." The noblewoman gestured to a servant girl, handing off her glass without even a word of thanks. She jabbed a bony finger in the air towards the Squire. "I see you're with your...companion."

"Yes, he is a child of the Mountainfolk."

"Oh, a servant?" she asked in mock curiosity.

"Squire, actually", interjected the Squire, causing her to glare at him.

"And a friend", The Prince draped his arm over the Squire's shoulder, pulling him in closer and causing the shorter boy to blush lightly.

"You should be careful of the company you keep, Your Highness. After all-"

"Oh don't worry, Duchess. My reputation is none of your concern. In fact, I seem to recall Father speaking about a certain noble lady's habits..." The Prince cut her off.

The Princess, having been an observer throughout the conversation, cleared her throat and spoke with an uncertain voice.

"Um, I'm sorry to interrupt, but I just remembered Mother wants to meet the two of you." She moved to position herself between the Prince and Squire, taking both of them by the hand with a warm smile. Now it was the Prince's turn to blush, though he hid it by turning his face away briefly as she did so. Hand in hand they walked forward swiftly, ignoring stares from the other guests and the bitter old crone. With her mouth agape, she began to shout, her face contorted and voice drowned out by the din.

"It is your duty, Your Highness! You cannot escape from it! And you too, Princess!"

"My brother will be king, not me." he shot back coolly, as the old lady's cruel visage faded into the crowd.

\--

"Thank you, Princess!" exclaimed both the boys simultaneously as they sighed in relief, seated beneath a gazebo by the lake. The Princess grinned nervously as she stood over them, though even while standing she was only slightly above eye level, for they had grown incredibly tall in recent months.

"Huh? Oh, no, it's nothing. I was just worried..."

"I would have been fine" boasted the Prince, patting his dark green-haired friend on the back. "Not sure about the Squire though, he was on the verge of crying!"

 

"Hey! I wasn't!"

"I'm sure you enjoyed the Princess holding your hand." teased the Prince, smirking and making mocking gestures, completely aware of how red the Princess' cheeks had turned.

 

The Squire folded his arms and stuck his tongue out at the Prince like a petulant child but failed to provoke a response, so after receiving no attention, he turned to stare across the lake. Lights danced across the water like fairies, strains of music still lingering as the night deepened. Occasionally, a splash could be seen here and there on the surface.

 

"Why was the Duchess so rude?" asked the Princess suddenly, her eyes downcast as she recalled the argument.

The Prince pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Truth be told...she's not entirely wrong. I always claim the throne will never be mine, but I'm still a prince, and I have my duty."

"I don't understand", said the Princess.

"She wasn't always so cold and cruel, as I've heard from Father."

The Squire's eyes grew wide. "Really??"

 

"Yes" continued the Prince. "I forgot what the details were, but it seems she loved a farmer boy and ran away with him. Without her as the only heir..."

"...her family's fortunes declined, and her father died heartbroken, pining for her. So in remorse she came home and never disobeyed again."

 

"Wait, Princess, you know the story too?" The Prince raised an eyebrow curiously.

"Um...not really, I've only heard a bit here and there from Mother, so I connected the dots." denied the Princess, chuckling awkwardly as she fiddled with a loose strand of hair.

The Squire, clearly dissatisfied, glared at the Prince as though challenging him. "Don't you have dreams? Are you just going to blindly follow whatever the people demand?"

"Of course I have dreams. But as brother always says, it's our lot in life. Our duty that we can't run from." he spat back.

 

It was at that moment, with perfect timing, that a commotion arose in the courtyard.

 

Hoofbeats.

Someone screamed.

The music stopped.

Voices were heard calling out for the royal physicians.

 

Immediately, they were on their feet, rushing towards the crowd with the Princess trailing behind, for her dress was unsuited for running.

 

In the middle of the courtyard, on the cold cobblestones, lay the Elder Prince in armor almost entirely destroyed, his dark brown hair stained red and right arm mangled. His horse was nothing but a heap of flesh further down the path, crying out for release.

The Moon Prince cried out, too.

"Brother!!"

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took longer cuz I wrote it and then rewrote it again, wasn't very happy with the dialogue. It still ain't perfect, but hey.


	5. Snow in Spring

The remnants of that golden autumn gave way to winter’s silence.

All through the palace was spreading an infestation of gloom, little gremlins curled up in the rafters and perched by bedsides. From the lowly maid to the King himself, the Elder Prince’s broken, dreamless sleep hung like a thundercloud over them.

The Moon Prince, especially, was in deep turmoil.

For days on end, he would sequester himself in his chambers and refuse all guests, opening his door only for food and water.

Even the Squire and Princess were turned away when they tried to visit.

 

“Go away” was all the Prince could mutter over and over from behind the closed chamber door, his voice wavering.  After a long while of silence, his footsteps receded further into the chamber.

Dejected, the Prince and Squire turned away from the door and sat down side by side on the carpeted stone floor. Outside the castle’s windows, white flakes formed a snowy curtain.

“Will everything be alright?” she asked in a small voice, hugging her legs close to her body as she gazed down at the floor despondently.

“I…” The Squire found himself tongue-tied and unable to offer her words of comfort, lost in his own tumultuous thoughts. “I don’t know.”

 

The Princess wept, and wept, and wept until her dress was stained with droplets of water, and then wept some more.

 

He did not object when she sniffled and moved closer to him, laying her head to rest on his broad shoulder and intertwining their fingers. The scent of her hair filled his head, conjuring images of a flower garden blooming amidst snow, and they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

 

The Squire awoke as dawn began to break, shaking off the veil of sleep and opening his eyes to find himself and the Princess huddled together, their bodies wrapped in a warm coat and the chamber door left ajar.

\---

In the spring, like a flower blooming, the Elder Prince was himself awakened. The King and Queen were relieved, but that relief was tainted by despair, for he was but a frail shell of their son.

His right arm hung limp and ruined, and his chest bore many scars that brought him pain, but worst of all was the injury to his mind.

While he still retained his intellect, he was prone to bouts of melancholy and hysteria at the sight of his fellow soldiers and even the guards. Only a few people were permitted to visit him.

“Little Moon”, he called out weakly, as the Moon Prince rushed to his side during one such visit. The Squire trailed behind hesitantly, but the Elder Prince noticed and beckoned him over.

“Forgive me” pleaded the Squire, his head bowed low. “I was too weak.”

 

The Elder Prince simply shook his head sadly, reaching out to pat the Squire on the shoulder.

“It’s not your fault. Or yours, Little Moon”, said the Elder Prince. “Besides, my sacrifice was worth it. We won.”

“But-“, started the Moon Prince, only to be cut off by his brother. The Elder Prince smiled grimly.

“Don’t cry.”

The Moon Prince sniffled and wiped his eyes with his sleeve, holding back tears.

\---

It isn't just the children listening to his stories. Now, even more of the adults have joined in the circle and are captivated by this strange, sad tale.

\---

 It was as if the land itself was wounded, a fog of despair hanging over even the common-folk. In the palace and on the street corners, whispers abounded of a succession crisis, of the Moon Prince having to take up his brother’s mantle, of the Elder Prince being unfit to rule.

Their words were a knife through the Moon Prince's heart, each a stab in the back from supposedly loyal Ministers and nobility. Naturally, these rumblings of unrest reached as far as the Flower Kingdom, where the Queen had begun making her own plans for her daughter.

The Squire heard these snatches of conversation as well, as much as he wished he could shut them out. They wormed their way into his head and clouded his thoughts, causing many sleepless nights where he would wake with a start, jolted out of slumber by some ghoulish dream.

 

All he longed for was a return to the simple days of their childhood, but those days were clearly gone for good.

Even his closest friend the Prince had changed.

 

They still met and conversed, but now the previously imperceptible distance between them had grown into a valley deep.

“It’s inevitable.”, was all the Moon Prince would say, when the Squire confronted him over the issue of succession and his own coldness.

The Squire considered slapping the Prince but decided against it. Instead, he turned away and called out over his shoulder with a wavering voice.

“Remember our childhood oath.”

The Prince responded “I know. But I have no choice.”

 

As for the Princess…well, there was little news of her. She was obviously still alive and healthy, but the Flower Kingdom had become a kingdom of iron walls, accepting few merchants and travelers, and even then only under strict conditions.

And so, it came to pass that the seasons changed once more, and the Squire tried his best to bury his feelings in a cave, deep beneath the mountain that was his heart. He was barely a noble, and they were out of reach in the clouds. The affairs of royalty were supposed to be none of his concern, regardless of who they knighted or executed or married.

Through the storm of his thoughts he wandered, pushing onward to a distant refuge. Gone would be his youthful longing soon, for only duty remained. Or so he thought…

\---

The Storyteller pauses for a break, gesturing to a plump waitress who hands him a mug of copper-colored ale.

“What happened next, Sir?” asks the Boy on his lap. Finishing half the mug, the Storyteller places it down on the table and replies.

“They grew up. But the story's not over yet."


	6. Vow II

The evening rain came down lightly, water droplets splattering across the cobblestones and dispersing into shallow puddles. In the palace courtyard, two young men stood facing each other, shirtless and clad only in light leather trousers despite the weather. They both held a sword of blunted metal each, gripping their weapons tightly. A mixture of sweat and raindrops ran down their muscular bodies.

 

“Again!” called out the Moon Prince.

The Knight, no longer a Squire at the age of seventeen, circled him like a lion ready to pounce, forest-green hair tousled and messy from their lengthy training session.

The Moon Prince’s breathing was ragged, but he held steady regardless and fixed his icy glare on his rival, bracing for a powerful blow.

 

CLANG.

Steel clashed with steel, as the Prince intercepted his Knight's overhead thrust with a parry of his own, which pushed the Prince back. He struggled to dig his heels in, falling back further and further, the Knight's sword dangerously close to his forehead.

 

Then for a moment, the Knight's offense wavered.

An opportunity.

 

The Prince ceased blocking suddenly, catching the Knight off-guard from the sudden shift in momentum, and as the Knight fell forward, the Prince dived out from under him to the side, delivering a decisive counter strike.

 

The Knight tried feebly to block, but his form was off, and he tumbled to the ground, forehead bleeding slightly from where his own blade had been turned back on him. The Prince walked over to where his companion lay on the soil, lowering himself to a seating position on shaky legs that threatened to give out.

 

“Another win for me” spoke the Prince plainly, not even as a boast.

From under the mop of messy green hair came an enthusiastic reply from the Knight. “Whoa. That was a great fight.”

 

The Prince simply shook his head disapprovingly.

“You've improved, but you still need confidence in your strikes”, he admonished, staring down at his friend and offering a helping hand up.

“I’m sorry…”

 

“Your Majesty!” came a voice from across the courtyard, high-pitched and insistent. They turned to peer at the interruption’s source: a tall servant stood beneath one of many ornate arches, sheltered from the rain which had begun to let up.

“What is it?” the Prince called out to his servant. “We’re in the middle of training, as you can see.”

“Pardon the interruption, Your Majesty, but the Flower Princess is here to see you. She’s waiting in the upper chambers.”

A strange look came over the Prince’s face.

 

 After so many years of silence, she had finally reappeared. Did she hate them? Was she here of her own accord? The Knight’s thoughts ran wild, and unconsciously he rose to his feet and began to follow behind the Prince and servant.

 

Realizing his actions, the Knight stopped in his tracks.

“What’s wrong?” asked the Prince, looking back at his companion. “Don’t you want to see her as well?”

“Of course. But…am I really allowed to?” The knight scratched his ear nervously.

The servant smiled at their exchange and spoke up. “Oh, there’s no problem, Sir Knight. She requested for you as well. Go take a bath and change before you visit her, yes?”

\---

As the Knight ascended the spiral staircase, his heart was a loudly thumping war drum signaling confusing instructions, torn between charging forth or slinking back in retreat. Why now, after all these years?

 _The Prince feels the same way_ , observed the Knight, even though his face hid it better, a clenched fist the only sign of his own nervousness.

Soon they stood on the chamber’s threshold, the servant having departed elsewhere. As they entered the room, late noon sunlight illuminated the princess, but to the Knight, her smile was brighter still.

 “Princess!” they cried in unison, the Squire rushing ahead of the Prince to greet her. She threw her arms wide, beckoning them both into a hug, but the Prince hesitated at first, only joining in after she insisted.

\----

“Is everything well?” asked the Knight. They were wandering the castle garden’s hedge maze side by side, as they had done before so many years ago, hearing the evening birdsong and marveling at sunset’s palette of shifting colors.

 

“Y-yes. Mother has been busy with negotiations recently, and finally secured another alliance”, the Princess spoke with some uncertainty.

 

The Prince gazed down at her as he walked, looking concerned. “You don’t sound very certain. Is there trouble?”

“Oh, no, no, it’s nothing”, she reassured him, smiling sheepishly. “I’m just worrying too much as usual. I know it’s unbecoming of a Princess…”

“That’s part of your charm though”, exclaimed the Knight as he grabbed her hand, and she blushed, even more so when the Prince nodded in agreement and took her hand as well. For a moment, it looked like the Princess was about to run away but she quickly regained her composure.

 

“I guess so…”, her voice trailed off as they turned a corner and emerged into the heart of the garden, where a fountain stood overflowing with water, ringed by benches facing outward towards the hedges. At its edges, little birds lapped at the water, tilting their heads back to swallow once they had their fill.

 

“So, what brings you here after all these years? You just disappeared after the whole incident.” The Prince finally broached the topic, confronting her as they sat on the benches with twilight approaching. His face was grim, reminding the Knight of the Elder Prince before he left for that disastrous battle.

The Princess bowed her head low. “Forgive me. Mother has asked that I be married off, for the sake of our political alliance.”

 

Marriage. That one word sent the Knight’s mind reeling, and he noticed the Prince’s hands were trembling.

 

“To whom?” asked the Knight, although he already knew the answer.

 

The Prince stood up swiftly, towering over them both and causing the Princess to flinch. He was glaring, but not at his companions.

 

“It’s not that I don’t love you”, the Prince spoke with a quivering voice. “I do. But I also love him. And I know you do too, Princess. As does he. So please…”

She shook her head, with tears filling her eyes. “I cannot go against mother, and it would be good for the two kingdoms…”

 

“You don’t want the three of us to be torn apart, right?" , asked the Knight sadly. "But there’s nothing we can do, after all”

 “But”, he continued, “I think I have a plan.”

 “What is it?” asked the Princess.

 

Voices screamed in the Knight’s head to reconsider, to turn back and not subject himself to misery, but he forged forward anyway.

 

“We’ve known each other since the beginning, and you said I’m a good fighter,” The Knight knelt before the Prince. “Let me become your personal guard, and I will remain by your side always, guarding the two of you.”

 

 


	7. Ceremonies

In the throne room hundreds of eyes were staring, and the late summer wind carried a million whispers on its back. The Knight knelt on one knee before the throne, before the Moon Prince and King in their finest garb of gold and purple.

 

“So…you wish to swear an oath to my son?” came the King’s voice from above, soft but stern. In his hands was a ceremonial sword, which he held out to the Prince.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“And you’re aware of what the oath entails, yes?”, asked the King once more. The Knight simply nodded, a look of determination set on his face.

 

With a single gesture from his father, the Moon Prince took the sword, sheathed it by his side, and strode forward, descending the carpeted steps to where his friend knelt. He stood for a long time gazing down at the Knight, whose head was bowed low.

 

Then, in a breach of tradition which left the nobles present stunned, he too got down on one knee. For years to come, this singular action would give rise to rumors innumerable, but it was the Moon Prince’s first and last public act of rebellion, and he played the dutiful ruler ever after.

 

Embracing the Knight in a hug as if he were an equal, the Prince whispered in his ear, “You’re sure of this?”

Again the Knight nodded, gazing into his beloved Prince’s deep brown eyes. His armor was a millstone weighing him down and rats were gnawing at his guts, but _if the Elder Prince could sacrifice for duty, so could he for his companions._

 

“Swear to me”, exclaimed the Prince after a long silence, rising to his feet and gripping the sword handle. With one swift motion, he drew it out and held the Knight at sword-point as he raised his voice. “You shall take no other binding oaths.”

“I shall not.”

“Your loyalty will be only to the Kingdom and the Throne, until you are released through exile or death.”

“Let it be so.”

“Your duty is to guard the Throne and all its domains and those who sit on it, with your life.”

“I shall do as you command.”

“You shall hold no lands, nor make a home in any dwelling other than the palace.”

“I shall remain here, for that is my duty.”

The Prince’s voice wavered slightly, but he continued. “You shall not bed or marry any companions, nor father any children.”

“I shall not.”

 

“Then I accept”, the Prince said firmly. He turned to the assembled crowd and spoke. “Let it be known to all present here, with the Sky above and Earth beneath as our witness, that I am taking this man as my sworn companion and shield.”

Placing the flat of his blade on the Knight’s left shoulder, he commanded, “Rise”, and the Knight rose to fulfill his new station.

\----

Thus the Knight became the Prince’s right-hand man.

Yes, it is true that he was already such since time immemorial, but now the oath was properly binding and none could question his devotion, at least not in public.

One ceremony had ended, yet there was another: The Prince’s ascension to the throne, alongside his marriage to the Flower Princess.

 

For the time being, the Prince and Knight devoted themselves to their respective duties; the Prince continued his tutorship in all matters of governance and kingship, with the Knight by his side. With the veil on the Flower Kingdom lifted, the trio were free to come and go, although duty and court gossip limited their time together until the day of the wedding.

Again the years flew past, and I shall not bore the audience by recounting all that happened, for most of it is of little consequence. All I can say is that the Knight’s doubt never truly faded, a spider lingering and weaving its cobwebs in his mind.

But through it all, he held his tongue and the three lovers stole each moment as it came: a brush of the hand during training, gazes that lingered for too long across the dining table, hastily planted kisses, the stroking of hair, and other more raunchy things that I shall not describe to the children seated here.

\---

Moments alone were rare, yet fate’s providence was kind, and they found one such moment late at night when the rest of the palace had wandered into dreams.

It was the week before the spring solstice and the Prince’s coronation, but on that night, there were no chains binding them to their roles and duties.

 

The Knight was seated by the bedroom window, concentration focused on polishing his helmet, when an insistent rap on the door jolted him out of his stupor and woke the Prince.

Stumbling over to the door, the Knight opened it and was met with the sight of their dear Princess, clad in a pale nightgown, shining moonlight giving her an ethereal glow. There was uncertainty in her eyes, and for a moment the Knight wondered if she would fade and disappear as he hugged her.

 

There were no words exchanged as he let her in, as he led her to the Prince’s bedside, as they curled up in a tangle of limbs on the oversized bed, embracing each other’s bodies in an exploration of uncharted territory.

There was no need to say, “I’m afraid” or “Comfort me”. After all, they each understood there was a dreadful sword hanging over their heads.

\---

The Prince stood there, his back to the mountains with the sky above a deep, cloudless blue. Beside him was the Knight, gazing out over the assembled sea of commoners and nobility alike, their garments forming a jumble of colors.

Down the carpeted path she came, a white flower that took the Knight’s breath away as petals floated past her. The Knight heard the Prince gasp softly as well, as his royal liege extended his hand in invitation to the Princess.

The rest of the ceremony was a blur, but as he pondered on his thoughts later that night, the Knight chided himself for his envy.

\---

A few weeks later, the Princess grew faint and took to bed with an odd illness. The royal physicians attended to her, and pronounced the good news: she was pregnant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, it's a wedding. And she's gonna be a mum :D


	8. Birth

There was great joy in the palace. From one joyous occasion to another, it was as if each celebration had never truly ended but merely flowed into the next.

Amidst the buoyant mood enveloping the Moonlit Palace, the Knight forgot about his misgivings for a brief time.

The Young King (he who was once the Prince) faced much work to be done. There was the management of taxes; trade routes; the strengthening of armies in fear of what had happened before; parties; royal visits from other kingdoms beyond their valley; establishing of colonies. Through all this the Knight stood loyal by his dearest King’s side.

And of course, the issue of his yet-unborn child.

 

 The Princess’ belly had yet to bloom fully, with only a hint of growing roundness, but already the Young King found himself attending to soothsayers and ministers alike, each pressing him on matters of his child’s destiny. It was exhausting work, all of it, but he knew what had to be done. The chains of duty weighed each man and woman down in this life, a heavy burden for all to carry, and none more so than the king.

\---

“You’ve not been sleeping well”, said the Knight one morning as he came to rouse the Young King, who was already awake and standing by his bedside lost in thought, while the Queen’s chest rose and fell as she slumbered on the other half of their bed.

The King nodded silently, a grim look on his face.

 

“It won’t do for the Lord of the kingdom to be seen this way, yes?” The Knight tried his best to show concern, but _what do I know of leading a kingdom?_ he thought. He walked over to where the King stood by the foot of the bed, careful not to wake the slumbering Queen with loud footfalls.

“I know. It’s just…there’s so much to be done.”

“And there’s the matter of your fatherhood.”

“Yes. That too”, replied the King, lowering himself back onto the bed. The Knight followed suit and sat down beside him, placing a comforting hand on his King’s shoulder.

 

It was then that the Princess, stirred awake by their commotion, rose groggily and wrapped her arms around her dearest husband, the bare curves of her body pressing against his garments.

She was in her fourth month by then, and her belly had grown from a flat plain to a small hill; enough to raise doubt in the minds of any strangers that met her, but not yet fully blossoming.

 “Are you well, my Queen?” asked the Knight, although there was no need for such formalities in their private chamber.

She turned to the Knight and smiled, the Sun setting his heart alight, and that was the only answer he needed.

\---

Time seemed to fall away for the three friends as they went about the business of their duties. In the blink of an eye, the Queen’s womb had grown gravid and heavy with life. The pregnancy burdened her body greatly, and the Queen often had to rest.

Regardless, she seemed in good health, and the Prince was reassured by his physicians that all would be well.

Confined as she often was due to her condition, the Queen had begun to knit in her free time. The attendants protested, of course, fearing she would hurt herself with the needles, but she heeded them not.

 

These sessions of knitting were her solace, for the King and Knight were often away fulfilling their duties, despite their best efforts to remain by her side. The Queen didn’t quite mind, for she was safe within the castle and cared for, understanding the dreadful weight of duty.

And of course, she had her unborn daughter (or a son perhaps, though the physicians spoke otherwise), stirring within and making her presence increasingly known through those long months. Her daughter would often quicken as she heard the Queen’s voice, tumbling and reaching out with kicks and punches, eager to be born.

As her child grew and took shape within, so did the cape the Queen was knitting, from a single thread to a voluminous thing, thick and heavy to keep out the cold in winter months, for winter was a dreadful affair in the Moon Kingdom.

In the middle of her 7th month, the King’s entourage returned, and he found her sleeping soundly in their bedchamber chair, with the nearly completed cape by her side. The King raised a curious eyebrow, then draped the cape over her, smiling slightly.

It was in her 8th month that fate began to turn. Her belly was now an oversized, low-hanging fruit, taut and firm as though fully ripe. Gone was the energy of her earlier months, for she could barely raise herself from her chair now, and had to rely on her attendants, and occasionally the Knight, to help her up. 

 

Concerning as it was, the physicians were not overly worried, for far more frail women than her had endured and thrived, bearing many more children.

 

In fact, the head physician’s wife was one of them, and had borne him a brood of six, all grown with their own children now.

But doctors, with all their arcane knowledge, are only human themselves and can experience failure.

One day, as she was rousing herself from slumber, a sharp pain ripped through her belly and she screamed.

The Knight came running, as did the King and attendants, springing into action. Time seemed mutable in that place, hours slipping away as the Queen labored, her screams echoing through the chamber

 

Outside the door, the Knight and King paced about nervously, barred from entering by the head maid, a particularly nasty and harsh woman. The King thought it unnecessary to argue with her despite his authority, and so he complied. Through the day they waited, until the sun’s rays began to grow orange and dim, until the Moon rose to gaze down on them. Still the Princess groaned and screamed, although her voice had grown weaker.

The King and Knight, as if in solidarity with her, hardly ate during their ordeal of vigil as well.

Dawn was breaking the following day, when the Queen screamed once more then fell silent, joined shortly after by a higher-pitched, insistent cry.

 

A new prince had been born.

\---

The Queen held her new child close as the Knight and King entered.

She could not speak but gestured for them to come closer and hold the child, even as she lapsed into sleep, weary from the effort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go. I've updated the tags too :)


	9. The End

And sleep she did, for the rest of the day. No one thought it strange, of course, that a woman who had borne her child would need such a long rest.

But when she failed to awaken the day after, or the day after that, the Young King flew into a panic. The Knight half-heartedly tried to calm him down but found himself equally unsettled.

The royal physicians came once more unto the sleeping Queen, with their tools and trinkets and potions, but the knight could scarcely hear them over the clamor of his own thought. He couldn’t protect her, couldn’t be her shield in this time of crisis.

 

And worst of all, he could not be by her side, for the royal bedchamber had become a battlefield, fought over not with swords and spears, but with medicine.

 

It was a war in which he stood powerless.

For weeks this war raged on, with the occasional battle won here and there, where she would half-awaken only to lapse into slumber again.

\--

As for the child, he was frail himself, but not ill. He was their brief respite amidst the chaos, and the Young King especially enjoyed the feeling of tiny fingers wrapping around his own, dark brown eyes gazing back at him as though looking at a mirror.

The Knight was a bit more hesitant but warmed up to the child as well in due time, carrying him to his mother in her brief moments of lucidity.

She still would not speak each time, but smiled when they entered and took the child to be nursed by her breast or bounced on her lap, which had grown increasingly gaunt. Gone was the plumpness in her body.

 

Autumn’s golden hues began to give way to the cold, and despite the heated rooms of their palace, a chill hung in the air, like it had so many years earlier as the Elder Prince (who was now quite content in his simple life) lay broken on his bed.

Unlike the Elder Prince however, her moments of awakening began to grow shorter and shorter, and soon the Queen would not be roused at all except for a brief flutter of the eyes or a groan when the nurses tried to move her.

 

And then one day, she awakened unexpectedly, beckoning a nurse to her side who in turn summoned the King and Knight.

They knelt by her bedside, saying nothing themselves. Her frail arms caressed their faces, and she sobbed without tears. Then she motioned to that same nurse, ‘ _Fetch me the cloak_ ’, and had it brought to her, an ornate thing with patterns of crescents and flowers and mountains embroidered on it.

With some difficulty, she held it up to her dearest husband, and slipped it over him. The dying Queen kissed them both with dry lips, still sobbing as she held them close. At last, her cries died down, and she whispered something in the Knight’s ear.

He nodded through his own tears and stood up, gazing down on her ruined body as she closed her eyes.

\---

“I’m sorry”, spoke the Knight, as they stood by that cliff he had found all those years ago, beneath a winter sky. “I failed my vows.”

The King simply shook his head.

“There was nothing you and I could have done.”

Snowflakes fell on the King’s cloak, but he did not shake them off, and merely gazed up wistfully at the apple tree, which had lost its leaves in the chill.

“Then I must atone. Your son. I can protect-”, started the Knight, but the King had turned his steely eyes on him, and he fell silent.

“No. Your oath is complete.” The Knight flinched as through struck across the face.

“What?”

The King, looking so much like the naïve Prince he was long ago, smiled as he took off the cloak and placed it on his companion’s shoulders.

“Go explore the world and break your shackles.”

“But my duty is here with you!”

“I have more than enough knights to fulfill that role. And there is no need for you to remain trapped as well, is there?”

“I-“, the knight attempted to protest again, but the King, in his only abuse of authority, overruled his dearest companion’s wishes.

“I order you, as your King, to go forth”, commanded the King. “You’ll find a carriage ready for you, with enough provisions for a year.”

The Knight stood facing his King and lover and friend once more, as he had during the first oath, but did not kneel. They hugged each other for what seemed like eternity.

“Goodbye, friend.”

That was the end of it, and the King walked away into the woods, leaving the Knight there beneath a leaden gray sky.

As the Knight stared across the kingdom shrouded in a white blanket, he felt alone for the first time in his life, the cloak weighing heavily on his shoulders.

\---

“And so the Knight left his dear friend and kingdom behind, and ventured forth into the world with a heavy heart. As he traveled, he met new companions and comrades, but none could compare to the Prince and Princess, on whom his heart remained set. He saw wondrous sights, and encountered much in way of joy, and horror, and heartbreak, but those memories of long ago never faded.”

“But…where is he now?”, wheedles the boy on the Storyteller’s lap. The Storyteller ruffles the boy’s hair, coughing and taking another swig of his drink.

“Somewhere far away.”

The audience, both adults and children, begins to murmur with curiosity. One brawny man raises his voice. “Hey stranger. How’d you get tha’ nice coat anyway? He gave it to ya?”

“Perhaps”, is all the Storyteller’s willing to say, smiling cryptically.

The blizzard outside is dying out now, and the Storyteller makes preparations to leave, to the protests of his audience. As he walks out beneath the winter night sky, snowflakes fall on his graying greenish hair and he shakes them off with a brush of his hand, drawing the cloak closer around himself and wandering off once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, that's finally done. It could have been written better, but I guess I can always go back and rewrite later on if I'm inclined to do so.


	10. BONUS SCENE: That's a Wrap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a random bonus scene :D
> 
> It'll probably ruin the story for you, but hey. 
> 
> It's based on those Director Ennoshita posters that Furudate loves drawing btw, in case you didn't know.

“Alright, that’s a wrap!” yells a voice from somewhere in the gym. Seated amidst a group of children, Aone sighs in relief and peels off his fake beard.

 

Apparently freaked out by Aone’s sudden lack of facial hair, or maybe cuz the film’s finally done, one kid’s eyes go wide and he begins to cry. Aone panics, reaching into his pocket for a sweet which he thrusts into the little boy’s hands.

 

The crying stops…only to start up again from the corner of the room, where someone else begins sobbing.

 

“It’s…it’s not fair. Why did the King and Knight have to suffer so much?” Yachi bawls, curled up in a ball of misery, her tears staining the corpse makeup as Yamaguchi tries to console her.

“Yachi-san, come on, don’t cry! It’s just a movie!”, he says, placing a hand on her shoulder for comfort. “You enjoyed acting, right?”

 

She nods vigorously with tear-filled eyes, sniffling all the while.

 

Next to the director’s chair, two oversized children (one with orange hair and the other with spiky black hair) are excitedly hounding the director as they attempt to peer at his raw footage.

He shoos them off with a wave of his hand, but they persist and eventually get dragged away by a rather annoyed Tsukishima, placed next to Yachi in the corner of woe where they begin fanboying over her acting skills instead.

 

Satisfied, Tsukki goes back to reading on the gym bench.

 

“Hey you! Mr Director!” Ennoshita sighs, turning to face the loudmouthed Tanaka. “How come I wasn’t in the movie?!”

“Oh, sorry Tanaka. Maybe I should have casted you as one of the kids”, comes the oh-so-innocent reply from Ennoshita, as he slowly inches towards the gym door and away from Tanaka

“Yeah, that would have been awe- hey wait, come back here you bastard! Ennoshita!!”


End file.
